Author's infos

Introduction:

A young woman's introduction to sexual submission.

Tarnheim Academy, Part One

My name is Heather Gringsworth, and this is my story.

I was raised by my parents in Essex, in the very lap of luxury. I lacked for nothing, and enjoyed all the privileges of wealth and status. My parents indulged my every whim, which only served to embolden me to demand ever more. I attended an elite private school in which my social circle was composed of other young girls of similar means and disposition. We were a clique, and looked with disdain upon those beneath us. We took pleasure in teasing and tormenting other girls, those of lesser station than ourselves. I took particular delight in flirting with boys, none of whom I would ever give a real chance. At the age of sixteen I had become a genuine spoiled bitch, and lived that role to the hilt.

All of that was to change.

One evening at dinner Mummy and Daddy announced that I was being sent to a boarding school.

“What? Oh, no, you are not doing this. I have all of my friends here, and I’m not going off to some silly boarding school.”

Daddy was adamant. “Young lady, your mother and I have discussed this, and we have made our decision. We have chosen the Tarnheim Academy; it is an extremely exclusive school, one that we believe will be uniquely suited to your needs.”

“Tarnheim? Is that in Lancaster?”

“No,” Daddy answered with a smile. “It’s in Austria. Your mother and I have reviewed their curriculum, and there’s no better school on earth to instruct you properly. The arrangements have already been made. You leave in the morning.”

I was taken aback by all of this, but Mummy and Daddy would hear none of my complaints. I went to bed thinking of ways to punish them for being so unreasonable. Still, I thought, it would be something new, and if I found it too stuffy I was sure that I could cajole my parents into returning me home.

In the morning I packed my things and Daddy had our driver take me to the airport. The plane ride was unexceptional, and the drive from the airport in Salzburg was a tad bumpy. The Academy was some distance from Salzburg, up in the mountains and fairly remote. The entrance seemed rather imposing, a gate of iron and stone topped with wicked looking spikes. The Academy itself had something of the look of a medieval castle, all of gray stone.

The driver held the door for me as I exited the vehicle. I left him to deal with my luggage and proceeded towards the main door. A rather intimidating woman awaited me. She was very tall, perhaps six feet, and strikingly beautiful. Her blond hair was tied back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and her blue eyes seemed to pierce right through me. I noted that she wore a tight outfit of dark leather with the Academy crest over her heart. The leather hugged her curves in a most provocative way, and she was quite imposing.

“You must be Miss Gringsworth,” she spoke curtly. “I am Helen Krieger, and I run this Academy. You will refer to me as Headmistress.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied with a dismissive wave. “Where is my room?”

Her eyebrow rose at the question. “The driver will see to your things, Miss Gringsworth. You, on the other hand, must come with me to my office at once.”

I shook my head. “Oh, no, I’m much too tired now, Miss Krieger. It’s been a long flight and even longer drive. Perhaps later this afternoon.”

“At once!” she repeated sharply.

I was taken aback by her boldness, but sighed and cooperated. She marched on five inch heels down the hallway, and I saw girls in school uniforms scramble to get out of her way. I walked behind, thinking that I’d have to straighten her out about a few things; after all, it was Daddy’s money that was paying for all of this.

We arrived at her office, and she opened the door and gestured for me to enter before her. I did so, and noted the office held the expected shelves of books, a massive desk of polished oak, and a few chairs. One looked rather odd, but I did not have time to contemplate that as the door slammed behind me.

As I turned to speak, Miss Krieger’s gloved hand struck me full force across the face. I gasped in as much astonishment as pain; I couldn’t believe the woman had struck me! Anger and indignation welled up inside me, and I began a caustic rebuke.

“What the hell do you think…” I began, but another stinging slap across the face silenced my retort. I put up my hands to defend myself, only to find my wrist grabbed and twisted in a painful hold which brought me to my knees. She held me effortlessly, and I was powerless to escape.

“I will release you when I wish, and not before, Miss Gringsworth. You need to learn proper etiquette, and I am going to teach you. First, as I told you before, you will refer to me as Headmistress. When spoken to, you will answer ‘Yes, Headmistress’ or ‘No, Headmistress.’ Is that clear?”

“Y-yes, Headmistress,” I replied.

“Second, you will learn that there is a hierarchy here at Tarnheim. First year girls answer to second year girls, who answer to third year girls, who answer to fourth year girls. All girls answer to the teachers, whom you will address as Master or Mistress, and all answer to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Headmistress,” I nodded.

“Third, the rule of Tarnheim is obedience. When you are given an order by one above you, you will obey without question, unless the order conflicts with one given by a higher authority. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Headmistress.”

“Very good, Miss Gringsworth. Get up, and we shall see to your punishment.”

As she released my wrist, I looked up at her. “My punishment? W-what are you talking about?”

She stood above me, and her eyes were two pools of cold blue ice. “Your actions and attitude have been most inappropriate, Miss Gringsworth. Your insolence will not be tolerated here, and you will now learn the consequences.”

I gulped nervously, not knowing what form this punishment was to take. Miss Krieger was very intimidating, and I was genuinely scared. My fears were justified, I soon discovered.

“Remove your clothes, and place them over there by the door,” she commanded.

I blinked in amazement. “I-I’m sorry, you want me to do what, Headmistress?”

Frightened, I complied with her commands. I removed my shoes and socks, and my fingers shook as I fumbled with the buttons of my blouse. I unzipped my skirt and lowered it to the ground, then, clad only in my undergarments, bent down to pick up my clothes.

“You are not finished, Miss Gringsworth. Continue.”

I stared at her in shock. “Y-you want me naked, Headmistress?”

She answered with a predatory smile that chilled me to the core. “Yes. Continue.”

My heart raced as I nervously reached up to unfasten the front snap on my bra. Biting my lip, I pulled it open, revealing my breasts, and shrugged my bra to the floor. Strangely, my nipples had become erect, an odd reaction to fear. With some hesitation I grasped the hem of my panties and slowly peeled them down to my feet, then stepped out of them. One hand covered my pussy while the other attempted to cover my breasts.

“Very good, Miss Gringsworth. Now stand up straight so I can get a better look at you, and keep your hands at your sides.”

Miss Krieger approached, and I stood rigidly still, not daring to even breathe as she circled me. I’d always taken pride in my body, reveling in the stares I drew from the boys (and some girls, I might add). But I’d never felt so vulnerable. Her eyes roamed up and down the length of my body and she smiled appreciatively. “I see that you’ve kept your body in decent condition, though you need more muscle tone. Don’t worry, we’ll see to that soon enough. Now, lie face down on that.”

Miss Krieger pointed towards a leather covered bench that was some four feet in length, and about a foot wide. Nervously, I lay down upon it, my arms and legs dangling over the sides. She quickly seized hold of a wrist and I felt a loop of silken cord placed around it. Similar loops were placed over my other wrist and my ankles. Miss Krieger pressed a button, and I heard the whir of electric motors and the cords were drawn tight to the legs of the bench.

My breasts were flattened beneath me, and I was unable to move my arms in any way. I could straighten my legs a trifle, which served only to raise my bottom higher. I was trapped and utterly defenseless, my body exposed and vulnerable.

Miss Krieger stepped out of my view, and I waited anxiously, not knowing what was to happen next. I was not prepared when I heard the crack of a whip cutting the air and slashing across my bottom a split-instant later. I screamed in pain, and struggled futilely to free myself.

“Oh, god, please Headmistress, please don’t whip me!”

“Miss Gringsworth, you will stop your sniveling this instant. You’ve had this coming for a very long time, and you’re going to get what you deserve.” With that she cracked the whip across my bottom again, and I felt my ass was on fire.

“Nonsense. This whip is specially made for its purpose, Miss Gringsworth. It is both pliable and resilient, calculated to sting but not to mark the flesh. I could whip you all day and never leave a mark.”

The whip came down again on my bottom, and I screamed. I screamed for help, but no one in the Academy would dare to intrude on their headmistress. I begged for mercy, and soon learned that mercy was not a quality that Miss Krieger possessed. She laid into me with renewed fervor, whipping my poor bottom until it felt like my skin had been flayed off with a knife. She varied her attack, sometimes aiming for the backs of my legs and letting the tip of the lash curl around my thigh. Worst of all, sometimes she let the whip curl between my legs and flick my tender pussy, which elicited the loudest screams from me.

The whipping continued for a very long time. I cannot say how long it was, because time had ceased to have meaning. All of my existence was concentrated on the sensations of pain and utter helplessness. I’d stopped pleading with her long ago, and my cries had become incoherent. Miss Krieger’s stamina was incredible; she continued to lash me with undiminished energy and enthusiasm for what seemed like over an hour. I was a broken, sobbing wreck, and my bottom was ablaze with pain.

Finally, Miss Krieger moved to stand in front of me. With my arms pulled down tight, I could scarcely raise my head enough to look into her eyes. She smiled wickedly, and said, “I am going to give you twelve more lashes, Miss Gringsworth, all directly upon your sweet pussy, and with the full force of my arm. You are to count out the number of each stroke in a loud, clear voice. If you fail to keep the proper count, we shall begin again at ‘one.’ Do you understand?”

Sobbing, I nodded. “Yes, Headmistress.”

“Good. Then let us begin.”

The whip cracked loudly, the tip landing squarely on my pussy. I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice was paralyzed with pain. My jaw moved as I mouthed the word, “One.”

The whip slashed down again between my widely parted thighs to strike my clitoris full force. A fresh wave of pain swept over me. My eyes were squeezed shut, and my mouth moved again. “T-two,” I breathed.

The lash came down again, striking its mark unerringly. I screamed out, “Three!”

Miss Krieger shook her head. “No, Miss Gringsworth, you are wrong. It cannot be ‘three’ until you have properly counted ‘one.’” With that she cut down again with the lash directly on my swollen clitoris.

“One! One! Oh, god, one!”

“Very good, Miss Gringsworth. We will now continue with a proper count.”

To my credit, I managed to maintain the count despite the pain. Each time I felt I might lose consciousness, but I had to focus past it to call out the count or it would become infinitely worse. When I had finally called out twelve, I would have collapsed had I not been securely bound.

My breath came in shuddering gasps. Miss Krieger moved behind me, peeling off her leather gloves as she did so. Her hand caressed my bottom, feeling so cool against the heat of my blazing skin. She gently stroked my ass, her hands wandering over both upraised globes and down my parted thighs. It felt very good, and quite soothing. I felt her soft tongue trace a line up one thigh, licking its way up my leg and swirling upon one burning ass cheek. She repeated the process on the other thigh, and I squirmed as her tongue tickled my ass. I was embarrassed at how much I liked having her lick my ass.

She then began caressing my stinging pussy, and her soft touch gave wonderful relief to the pain. I felt myself moaning softly as her hands explored my throbbing quim. I felt myself getting wet in spite of myself. She knelt between my parted thighs and began expertly licking my exposed pussy. I moaned louder, feeling my body respond in unthinkable ways. Her tongue dove deep into my slit, moving in slow circles, and I felt my breath come faster.

When Miss Krieger’s tongue flicked across my swollen clitoris, all self-control dissolved and I felt my body quake with a powerful orgasm. She continued licking me, taking my clitoris between her lips and sucking on it. I came again and again as she tongued me, my orgasms running together until I was in a continuous state of climactic explosion. I was out of my mind, begging her to never stop.

When Miss Krieger finally released me, I was beyond all thought or reason. I had been reduced to her sexual plaything, and was willing to do anything she commanded without hesitation. She stood and walked in front of me, peeling off her leathers as she did so. Her body was superb, trim and athletic yet with amazing breasts. I noted that her nipples were pierced, as was her clitoris, and all bore rings of white gold. She moved to place her shaved pussy directly into my face, winding her fingers in my hair.

“Lick me,” she commanded, and I eagerly complied.

I’d never made love to a woman before, nor to a man, except for kissing and soft caresses. Yet I found myself hungrily lapping her pussy like a girl gone mad. I wanted it, wanted it badly, and licked and sucked her for all that I was worth. Miss Krieger whispered words of encouragement, urging me on as I licked her, and I loved it. The taste was heavenly.

Miss Krieger had me tongue her to orgasm three times before she released me. I rose from the bench unsteadily, my legs wobbly from being bound for so long. She helped me to my feet, and poured me a glass of water from a carafe on her desk. I drank, thirsty from screaming for so long. She looked at me and smiled.

“Now you’ve had a proper introduction to our way of teaching, Miss Gringsworth. Welcome to Tarnheim Academy, your new home.”

I smiled in return, genuinely moved. I felt I had been transformed by my experience, and knew that nothing would be the same ever again. Nor would I want it to be.